Sista Parting
by TwigTalent
Summary: When Magnus is out running a few errands for Kurt, he makes a stop at the bank, thanks to a late pay check from Kurt. No one could have predicted that he would find a missing girl there, with a gun pointed at his head.
1. Prologue

**~Prologue~**

The office had its usual buzz, with phones ringing, television playing in the background, and papers being filled out, everyone was doing something. Martinsson was doing work on his laptop, occasionally having to get up and answer the phone, while everyone else was preoccupied with their own tasks. Across from him, Ann-Britt talking to a woman on the phone filing a noise complaint, talking notes as she continued the conversation with her diplomatic personality. As that went on, Nyberg was practicing his graphology, examining a piece of writing from Martinsson, receiving a wary look from the young man when he asked for a sample, which was being held underneath a light and close to the pathologist's face. Wallander was with Lisa in her office, talking about some cases that had gone cold and what could be done for the families of the victims and the cases themselves, as well as checking for any new leads.

"Martinsson," Nyberg said from his desk as he examined the detective's handwriting, the wire-framed glasses perched close to the edge of his nose. "According to this, you have an active, restless mind, and are very self-reliant."

"Shocking." Martinsson replied in a sarcastic tone, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"And your upward slant at the end of your note shows courage, but the spacing also suggests firm beliefs, judgment, an outright perfectionist," A dark glare was immediately directed at Nyberg, who paid no attention and continued. "You have angular writing, so that means you do not take criticisms well, but we all knew that." Nyberg scoffed and the taping on the laptop seemed to get a bit harsher. "You like the direct, quick route for information and answers."

Head now tilted in his hand, Martinsson rolled his eyes, still clicking around with one hand. "Reason why I'm on the computer." He added.

"And, surprisingly, a positive attitude." Nyberg said in surprise, catching a quick glance from Ann-Brit and a few others nearby officers. "You were the one who wrote this, right?" He asked, putting the paper down on his desk.

Chuckling, Ann-Brit went back to her phone call as Martinsson leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and clearly not amused. "What are you implying, Nyberg?"

Nyberg chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, you aren't exactly the most opti-"

"Martinsson." Kurt barked from the office.

Shooting one last glare at Nyberg, who held a smug grin, Martinsson leaned back in his chair to look at his superior leaning out from the door. "Yeah Kurt?" He was tired, needed sleep, needed coffee, and it was only one o'clock, impatience clear in his voice like a teenager.

An audible sigh was heard. "You busy at the moment?"

Hesitating, he knew from that particular tone that no matter how he responded truth or lie, that tone meant work. And since it was Kurt, it was likely a lot of work.

"No." He said finally, biting his lip in regret and wanting to just let his head fall onto his desk to be a paper-weight.

"Great, come in here, will you? Need you to do some stuff for us." Now it was Kurt's turn to be impatient.

Sighing, Magnus pried himself from his chair and sauntered over to the office holding the detective and the chief, leaning against the door frame. The two of them were sitting across from each other with a file covered desk separating them, each looking as tired as he was, perhaps even more. Lisa was on her computer typing and Kurt was reading a file, glasses nearing the edge of his nose, an apparent trait at the station today. Waiting a few moments for the two realize that he had actually came, Magnus knocked on the door, breaking them from their trances.

Looking the young detective up and down with an uncertain face, Kurt took off his glasses and placed them on the desk. "H-how long have you been standing there, Magnus?"

Restraining himself from reply with an immature comment, Magnus decided to just cross his arms. "Not too long."

Kurt nodded hesitantly. "Okay...Erm, could we ask you to run a few errands for us? Lisa and I are still a bit occupied with the cases."

Nodding, Magnus smiled weakly, wishing he was doing more than just 'running errands' and 'doing research'. "Yeah, sure, of course, Kurt. What do you need done?" His tone was that of mocking an obedient puppy.

"We've got letters for a few families from some cases; Lisa and I have already labeled and stamped them, so all you need to do is drop them off at the post. And I have a book that needs to be returned to the library today. They've been calling for me to return it and I just haven't gotten around doing it. Think you could do that?"

Realizing that there would likely be more for him to do, Magnus cleared his throat and ran the list over in his head. "Yeah, sure. Anything else, guys?"

Kurt and Lisa exchanged a look from across the desk.

"We need you to pick something up from the bakery for us." Lisa said, folding her hands on her desk, looking like the true boss she was. Not even Kurt Wallander could disagree with her well-earned status at the Ystad CID.

Raising his eyebrows, Magnus gave a surprised look. "The bakery? What on earth do you need from there?"

Lisa gave the young man an honest look. "Just some lunch. We already put the order in under Wallander, so you just need to pick it up." She smiled. "Oh and here's your check. Pay Day." She added, Kurt reaching into his jacket and pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Martinsson.

"Um…thanks." He smiled as he took it. "But isn't this a bit early? And I still haven't gotten the one from last Pay Day." Magnus said carefully, looking at his superiors who set their gaze on the desk.

"That, uh, is the one from last Pay Day." Kurt said in an embarrassed tone. "I sort of forget to give it to you." He finished, glancing up at Magnus, clearly unhappy. "Sorry."

Magnus took a breath to calm down, closing his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "It's fine, Kurt. Better late than never, right?" He chuckled, putting the check into his side pocket and trying his best to not sneak in some sarcasm. "So, drop the letters off at the post, pick up lunch, and return your book. Miss anything?"

Kurt shook his head. "Nope. Guess I should give you the book and letters though."

"Might help just a bit, Kurt." Martinsson said as Kurt reached down into his bag for a fair-sized volume with a hard cover for the detective and handed it to the young detective, who could help but gasp a little at its surprising weight. "What's this made out of? Steel?" He asked turning it over and raising his eyebrows in surprise at the title. "Since when did you take an interest in poetry? Let alone War Poetry?"

"It's good for the soul and none of your damn business." Kurt fired back, but that didn't stop the young blonde from catching the smile creeping on the detective inspector's face.

"Whatever." He snorted, taking the letters from Lisa and sorrow crossed onto his face in a slow wave.

"All these families," He whispered. "Elena Sturnsson, Stellan Ake, Axelia Stulnasson. People we couldn't find, people we couldn't save. Their families have all lost someone and some will never see them again." Clearing his throat, Magnus re-organized the letters and glanced at the two others in the room, who shared the same faces of sorrow as him. "If our job in society is to help, save…protect people, what good can we do for these families, these victims that we never could get to in time?"

Martinsson's thoughts were pondered by everyone, a daily question asked every night by all at the station.

"Closure, hope, faith." Lisa spoke in a level tone, looking at each of the men in her office like her sons. "The knowing that we'll always be looking for their loved ones, and that we don't forget a case. Ever."

The room was silent, aside from the office buzz and the sound of the television outside, Lisa's words held heavy in the quiet atmosphere. Everyone's eyes were on the floor, Kurt tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair, Lisa turned to her desk of photos of those who were still missing, and the youngest detective went through the letters again, holding the book between his arm and waist.

Memories of each of the cases went through the man's mind like wild fire; chaotic, emotional, graphic. But each had a lesson within it and the drive to keep looking and not to give up. Biting his lip, Magnus finally broke the silence. "Let's go bring closure to some families then."

And with a shared smile, walked out of the office to get his grey jacket, slipping the book into the chest pocket on the inside of it and took one final glance at the letters before slipping them into the opposite one.

"You seem cheery." Nyberg remarked as Martinsson passed his desk, who just chuckled in reply. "Watch it, Martinsson, that positive attitude is showing."

Rolling his eyes at the pathologist's comment, Magnus just laughed once again, giving a curt nod and wave at Ann-Britt, who waved back in return.

"Bye, Magnus. Be safe." She called as he passed her, receiving a look of confusion in return.

"Ann-Britt, I'm just going out to run a few errands, it won't take long. No need to say 'bye'." He chuckled, despite the strange feeling in his gut. "But I appreciate it."

The brunet pushed her hair behind her ear and leaned back in her chair just as he reached the door. "Everyone deserves a 'goodbye', Magnus," She smiled, earning one from the blonde as he went out the door. "Even if it isn't the last."

Adjusting his jacket to shield himself from the fall wind, Magnus carried the bag containing lunch and headed to the library to drop off the book and return to the station. Dark clouds were rolling in, and from just one glance, the detective knew it would be a storm. Realizing that he might only have a few minutes before it reaches him, he picked up the pace, taking even longer strides with his legs. Pulling his sleeve down to ensure that he would still have the hand that was carrying the bag when he got home and shoving the other in his pant leg pocket. Martinsson was only a few blocks away from the library when thunder crackled in the sky.

"Damnmit." He whispered through gritted teeth, biting his lip as he remembered his late cheque.

Feeling the paper in his pocket, a thought dawned on him, and cautiously, Martinsson pulled out Kurt's check and looked at the date it was valid to.

"Damnmit Kurt!" The date matched today's, and there was no way he would be making it home early enough to cash it tonight. Of course the detective inspector would give him a cheque the day it expires, just his luck. "Bloody hell."

The numbing sensation of the cold covered his face completely as he began to jog, leaves crunching under his feet and rain beginning to fall and wet his hair. Then he saw it, the brownstone building of the bank. His fingers straining with the ties of the bag, Magnus sighed in relief and welcomed the warm air of the bank, the rain behind him beginning to come down in cold, heavy, white sheets.

**~Prologue~**

_Author's Note: __Okay, this is the beginning of something that's been sitting in my head for a while and I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think it's worth sharing. This was just planting the seeds for something that will hopefully be big and successful. Please leave a review! I also have a Tumblr of the same name that you can follow to embrace fandoms, look at my other work (photo-edits, poetry, and other stories I've written and posted here). Thank you for your consideration! Chapter One will be up soon in a day or so, perhaps even sooner, depending on the response. Thank you again for reading!_


	2. Chapter 1

**~Chapter One~**

Setting the soaked plastic bag down at his side and put the cheque between his teeth, Martinsson wiped his dripping wet face off with his sleeve , pulling his fingers through his now dark hair to try and get as much water out, he still looked like a drench puppy. Taking a glance behind him, he was grateful he dashed into the bank before the full storm caught up with him. Though his jacket was a more like a dark blue than its normal light grey, water falling from it to the golden tile floor. Taking the cheque out from between his teeth, Martinsson looked around the bank, scanning for an open till.

Fortunately, there were only about fifteen people waiting at the four tills, so Magnus picked up the bag and marched on. Feeling as if it weighed a few extra pounds, due to both the new water weight and because the detective was exhausted, he walked to the nearest line, shaking his head of any water to try and minimize the chances of catching a cold.

In front of him was a woman, not much older than him with her two kids, a boy and girl, likely about seven and five, all with matching blonde hair and blue eyes. Martinsson couldn't help but smile when the boy tugged his mother's sleeve to hold her wallet, and stood with pride once he had the leather pouch in his hands. The little girl cross her small arms across her chest and pouted as her brother showed off the wallet in his possession.

Across from them were three business men wearing suits that were far from suitable for the weather and it clearly showed on their faces. The one man, early twenties, brown hair and a stern personality that was clearly etched into the lines on his face, rolled his eyes as one of the ladies at the till chuckled innocently at the elderly woman making a joke about the weather.

Immediately, Magnus placed his gaze at the white beige ceiling, taking a deep breath. "Don't say anything, don't say anything, and don't say a single word about how he would need surgery to get the stick that's up his arse removed, Magnus." He whispered to himself, trying to think of what Kurt would be telling him right now about holding his tongue.

A thought crossed his mind and he raised an eyebrow, re-composing himself. "Kurt would actually put a good beating on you." He chuckled, moving a couple steps as his line moved.

Feeling pins and needles in his fingers, he placed the bag on the floor and rubbed the hand, trying to drive the uncomfortable sensation out of it. Taking another look around the room, Magnus practiced deducing things from people. Taking turns looking at a group, the young detective acknowledged a couple going through a divorce, since they stood together but not close and without rings and a college student, likely here to get money to pay bills, based on his standard clothes, class ring, and bags underneath his eyes. Oh, and the backpack.

Sighing again, Magnus shut his eyes, focusing on the tapping of the rain, but realized the he might just fall asleep standing up if he didn't open them. Rolling his head, trying to ease the tension in his neck, the detective caught the movement in his peripheral vision once he opened his eyes. Looking over, he saw that it was just a teenager with jet black hair, average height, and wearing all black with ripped knockings underneath her skirt, a Goth. The long sleeves of her shirt shifted upwards and the detective saw scars and bruises on her bone-like arms, making his stomach lurch a little. Biting his lip, Magnus saw her eyes, green, flash up and met his and fire right back at the ground, crossing her arms and tucking her chin close to her. Taking another moment to look at her face, the girl continued to hide her face from his view.

Shrugging and turning his head forward again, the blonde felt a stray drop of water fall down his back, causing him to fidget in an awkward movement while he waited for the lady and her two kids at the till to finish up. Pausing to recompose himself, he was certain he had lost some dignity with that move. After contemplating how much dignity he has left between the years of school and his years at the CID, Magnus grabbed his bag to shift it a few paces before setting it back down again and got his wallet out. Seeing the young brunet lady manning the now-empty till nodding at him, Magnus picked up the bag and went to move forward.

Magnus smiled and went to hand her the check and his bank card. "Hello, m-"

Gunfire erupted behind him, and his police training kicked in and Martinsson dove to the ground, getting as far away as possible, catching sight of everyone falling to their knees and covering their heads.

A bank heist had initiated, and Magnus Martinsson was lying right in front of the lead gunman.

"Everybody on the ground!" A man yelled, and when Magnus turned, he saw the three men in the suits and another person with automatic guns drawn and the young brunet man with the bad attitude had his pointed at the ceiling, still smoking. "Anyone makes a move for the door or a phone; your brains will paint the floor!"

Adrenalin rushing through his body, Magnus crawled to the end of the till line, finding the Goth girl there with her head between her knees and rocking back and forth. In the background, the children were crying and their mother tried desperately to quiet them. Magnus tried to calm his group, putting his arm on the girl's back; she curled herself even tighter and shook her head whispering to herself.

"Shut those kids up!" The man barked again, advancing towards the family with his drawn pointed at them, causing them to bury their heads into the floor. "Shut them up or I'll blow your brains out!"

"Sweethearts, be quiet, please be quiet." Martinsson watched with wide eyes from around the corner of the desk as the mother whispered to her children who were still weeping. "Please, darlings, it's alright, calm down, calm down, I'm right here. Sir, please don't hurt my children." The woman looked up, holding the kids close to her chest, tears streaming down her face. "Please, I'm b-"

Three shots rang out; and everyone on the floor jumped and let out a yelp at the sudden slaughter.

Magnus fell back and put his arms out to shield the scene from the girl's view, burying her face into the crook of his elbow and shut his eyes. She was already in enough distress, the blonde could feel her breathing quicken to that of hyperventilation.

The gun clicked and a shell fell to the floor.

"That's better." A sadistic, joyful tone said, taking footsteps around the room like a conqueror.

Uncovering his eyes and the girl's, Magnus tried to keep his gaze away from the three bodies bleeding on the floor as the gunmen dispersed, two in suits going to the door, the casual one stood in the middle of the crowd, and the youngest in the suit went to the tills and tossed canvas bags at them. Looking at the one man not wearing a suit, Martinsson saw that the one standing in the middle was the college student he had identified earlier.

None of them were wearing masks; they knew exactly what they were doing. They weren't afraid of showing that they were who they were, they knew there were cameras here, but they were standing in plain sight. They turned off the cameras. They knew that a bank so close to a police station didn't employ security. That meant Magnus had to get as many people out of the building as possible, save as many lives, because this bank robbery is planning to have no witnesses.

Everyone in that room was going to die.

"Fill them up!" The man at the till yelled, and the women and man behind the tills answered in a shrill of voices that were very quiet.

Turning back to the girl, Magnus felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, but he was used to it. It came with his job.

Pushing her further behind the counter, Magnus press a finger to his lips to the girl watching in fright by his side and the tellers who were working behind the counter, who only looked once and carried on with their task. Taking out his phone, he set it on silent and dialed Kurt's number, cautiously peering around the corner to ensure he hadn't been noticed. Watching with darkly outlined eyes, the girl met Magnus's eyes with a fearful gaze, and something in the detective's mind recognized them. She was sixteen at the most, but she acted far older.

"Everything's going to be alright. I'm going to get you out of here. I promise." Magnus whispered in her ear, making her shake her head in protest.

Her voice was so quiet and dry, he could barely hear her. "N-no, we can't, w-"

"Hurry up!" A shot rang out and Magnus pressed his hand over the girl's mouth as one of the tellers, the young lady who was going to help Magnus felt to the ground, gasping as blood trickled out from her mouth and chest, reaching out towards them in the corner. They were frozen in their place as they watched the girl who had a family, maybe even a boyfriend, scratch her nails across the floor and beg for them to help her in shallow breaths. Her blue eyes stared at their wide ones, fearful, begging, and dilated. She was gone.

Keeping his hand pressed against her mouth as he pried her gaze of the body beside them, Martinsson put on a serious face. "Listen, there's a back door that we can still get to from here. I'm with the CID, the police, I've called my partner, it'll be alright." He removed his hand from her mouth, not caring about the black lipstick staining his palm.

"You're going to get yourself killed." She whispered, black lips quivering.

"What's your name?" He asked, trying to get her mind off the situation at hand and dialing Kurt's number again and holding the phone to his ear.

Pulling a teller out of her booth by her hair, the gun clicked against her head and she let out a soft cry. "She's here. Fånge!" The gunmen conversed to each other, pointing their guns around the room.

The girl shook her head again, dark circles and pointed cheek bones very noticeable with her almost translucent skin. "I can't tell you."

"Come on," Martinsson re-assured her, putting a hand on her boney shoulder. "I'm Magnus, Magnus Martinsson. Now you go."

Pushing her around the next corner, they crawled silently to the wall perpendicular to the sight of the robbery, leaning against it and catching their breath, just as Kurt answered.

Pushing her midnight hair out of her face, she glanced at Magnus with a weak smile. "Axelia." She breathed.

"_Magnus, where in the bloody hell are you?" _Magnus never thought he would ever be grateful as he was at that moment to hear the gruff voice of Kurt Wallander talking to him in his scolding tone. Ever.

"I'm at the bank. Your cheque expires today. But something's happened." He whispered in a steady tone, trying to hide his fear for Axelia's sake.

Putting his hand out at his side, he felt her take it and hold it tightly.

There was a pause. _"Magnus, what's going on over there?"_

Looking around the corner, the blonde felt sweat mix with his already wet hair as the men gathered the canvas bags, looking around at their hostels. "Fånge!"

"My name was Axelia Stulnasson."

"Kurt, they have guns, the bank's-"His voice stopped as a lump in his throat formed, feeling the gun pressing against the back of his head. Mouth ajar and eyes wide, Martinsson looked to the side and saw the barrel of the gun, let the phone slide from his hand and onto the floor, and placed his hands behind his head.

"Axelia Stulnasson." He repeated, remembering her case, her face, her blonde hair in her photo that was plastered across every television and paper in Sweden. "I can help you."

"I'm very sorry, Magnus Martinsson." Axelia talked to him in a full but quiet voice in a quiver, clicking the gun and holding his hand tightly. "But I have to do this."

Closing his eyes, Magnus listened to Kurt's voice yelling at him from the phone, feeling the thin hand of the girl who he just found, after two years, giving an apologetic squeeze.

"_Martinsson! What's going on? Where are-"_

A shot rang out and everything went silent.

Axelia felt a tear roll down her cheek. "I need to stay alive."

At the station, no one didn't know how to react when Kurt screamed out when he heard that shot, because that shot meant that Magnus Martinsson was dead.

And it was his fault.

**~Chapter One~**

_Author's Note: __Okay, first of all, the quick response to this story was amazing! Thank you all so much for the alerts, favourites, and the reviews. Honestly, I was surprise by the amount of people who favourite the story, since it was only the prologue. But thank you all! It is all very much appreciated. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Sista Parting. Chapter Two should be up within a day or two, depending on how much time I have available for writing. Please leave a review! They are well-loved and taken to heart._

_Also, on an optional note, sista,_ _fånge, Axelia, and stulna are all Swedish words/name, and mean a lot to the story. Due to potential spoilers, feel free to use Google Translate to find out what they mean, but be wary of spoiling the story a little until the next chapter._


	3. Chapter 2

**~Chapter Two~**

Everyone at the station was in shock. One moment, they were setting up table and drinks, and in the next had Wallander screaming and throwing his phone onto his desk, pushing papers off of it in a tantrum.

"Kurt!" Ann-Britt called out, trying to get a hold on the detective inspector as he began hitting himself violently with his fists in self-discipline, bashing himself on the sides of his head.

Getting her smaller hands around his wrists, she held them away from his head. "Kurt, stop it! Stop it now! Kurt, that's enough!" She hissed, looking at Wallander in her caring eyes, trying to find out what was wrong, what he had heard on the phone.

His grey eyes were watery and he collapsed into her arms.

"I'm so sorry." He sobbed. "Ann-Britt, I'm so sorry, it's my entire fault. He's gone." He whispered as the young lady wrapped her arms tightly around him, swaying side to side in a motherly way.

Patting his head as it sat on her shoulder, Ann-Britt swallowed the hesitation and worry in her throat. "Kurt," She asked in a full voice, trying to keep it leveled. "What's happened to Magnus?"

Kurt bit his lip hard, trying to comprehend what had happened before. "He said…he was at the bank." The words came out in a controlled tone but the shock still shown through it.

Holding his shoulders tight, Ann-Britt set him down on a chair that Nyberg brought forward, keeping her eyes on the detective inspector's as she knelt down to keep level with him. "Okay, he said he was at the bank. What did he say next, Kurt?"

Mouth hanging open and trying to make words with his pale lips, he finally found his voice. "H-he was whispering, he told me they had guns." He cried out, biting his knuckles and breathing in a shuttering rhythm. "And then he just stopped, and then I heard a noise, like he dropped the phone or something."

Trying to keep the sickening fear in her stomach down, Ann-Britt nodded with wide eyes. "Kurt, what happened?" She pressed him as he began to stare at the floor.

Kurt's face twisted and he choked out words. "I heard a gunshot." And he fell into her shoulder again, literally shaking in her arms.

Ann-Britt paled and realized she was now holding her breath. Her eyes drifted to Martinsson's desk, staring at the laptop with a blue bow on it. The lump in her stomach consumed her, leaving an empty feeling, as if there was nothing to do but stand in the shock.

"He tried to help her." Kurt whispered, shaking her out of the haze.

"Her?" Ann-Britt frowned, pulling away and clutching Kurt's cheek. "What do you mean 'her'?"

"She told him she was 'sorry', that she had to do it." He whispered so fast that she barely caught the words.

"Kurt." Ann-Britt said in an affirmative tone. "Did they say anything else? Did Magnus say anything else before the gunshot?"

Searching his crumbling mind, Kurt nodded slowly. "He said her name, he wasn't whispering, like he was calling out to her, to us."

"What was her name, Kurt?" She asked in the same tone and he looked at her with careful eyes from the chair.

"Axelia Stulnasson." He said in his familiar low tone.

Prying herself off her knees, Ann-Britt marched over to Kurt's desk, grabbing his phone and hit 'Re-dial' and clutched it close to her face, murmuring to herself and twisting her fingers. One dial-tone later, she got what she was hoping for. The automatic message.

"_The number you just dialed is out of service or off-line. Please try-"_Ann-Britt shut the phone.

"Kurt." She called from the desk, not taking her eyes off the phone. "You said you only heard _one _gunshot?"

Wallander nodded from his chair, slowly re-composing himself. "Yeah, and then the line cut out."

The corners of her mouth lifted and Ann-Britt turned around.

"She didn't shoot him."

Twisting his wrist behind him, Axelia re-positioned the gun at the small of Martinsson's back, and stood up weakly; pulling his arm and making him stand up. If there wasn't a gun touching his spine, Magnus would be laughing at the situation. He was the victim and stood at 6'1, while the young girl being his captor stood at barely 5'2. Instead of laughing at the danger, he just ran his mouth.

"And everyone said that Nokia's were indestructible." The device let a spark fly from where the bullet hole was.

Axelia pushed the gun's tip at his back, making him move forward. "We have to go to the lobby. Please, I'm so sorry, but we have to go back."

He could run. He could easily get his arm out of her grasp and disarm her, run out the back. Glancing down behind him at the young girl he and the team spent many months trying to find, Magnus knew that even if he didn't disarm her, she wouldn't pull the trigger if he ran. Her dark lined eyes were red and fearful, begging, like she knew what he was thinking. Turning his head forward, he pressed his brows together in a pained expression and nodded, taking a step forward towards the lobby.

His captor let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you." She whispered, moving the gun away from his back so that it didn't dig into him.

He knew that if he left, those men in the lobby would kill her. They heard the shot; they know someone else was there with her. And he found her, finally she was found. Alive, but not the same girl in the photo. As he walked, he ran the case through his head; shock, happiness, sorrow, pity, fear, and worry added to the emotions of the girl he saw this morning as just another teenager at the bank.

Axelia Stulnasson was fifteen when she went missing. Blonde hair and green eyes, Axelia grew up in a good home; both of her parents were employed, clean records, paid off the house within a year of buying it, and sent her to one of the best high schools in Sweden. She took classes in dance, swimming, and singing. According to her mother, she spent a lot of time with her grandmother; learning how to bake, sew, garden, and paint. She was just a young lady with so much to offer when she disappeared. While walking home from school with a friend, through her neighborhood, neighbors said that they heard gunshots and saw a car take off down the road. When they left to go investigate, they found her friend, Stefan Johansson, bleeding out on a front lawn. Nyberg said that he was running when he got shot the second and third time, in the same direction as where the car took off.

He never made it to the hospital.

Stefan was sixteen and died trying to save his best friend.

After that, the team dug into every file and camera, trying to find out where she went or who took her. Interviewing her teachers, classmates, family members, anyone who knew her; no one could think of anyone who would take Axelia. Kurt asked her parents if anyone had been over to their house, or a new teacher had come, but they couldn't think of anything. No traces of anyone stalking them, Axelia hadn't received any e-mails from strangers; Magnus couldn't find anything at all. The team decided that there was no way that the abduction could have been pre-meditated, there was no evidence. Months passed, and her face was on every television, milk carton, flyer; everywhere. But no one saw her. She literally disappeared off the earth after that day. Her parents waited for days by the phone, waiting for a phone call or a letter or even an e-mail, but they received nothing. The people who took Axelia Stulnasson didn't ask for anything, they simply took two teenagers away from their families, one of them dead and after a while, the team began to think that she had the same fate.

Until today.

Turning the corner to the lobby, Magnus and Axelia saw the gunmen surrounding the hostages, who were now sitting in a clumped circle, terrified. The detective tried his best to keep his eyes off the body behind the till, but could still feel her dead gaze clouding him with guilt. Axelia just kept her eyes forward and on her gun, but she was rattled, shaken, a prisoner.

The gunmen turned around, facing the two with their guns and smirks on their faces.

"That must be him," the college student whispered to the leader, holding what Magnus recognized to be his wallet. He smiled. "It's about damn time, sweetheart. We were beginning to wonder if you'd run off."

The leader pointed at Magnus as Axelia step out from behind him, keeping her gun pointed at him. "Why is he alive?" he asked in a threatening tone.

Mouth hanging open, the young girl looked at him and back to Magnus, who put both hands behind his head and observed what was happening. "Peter, he-"

"Why is he still alive?" Peter spat, cocking his gun and pointed it at Axelia, who cringed and lowered her pistol. "We all heard the shot, why isn't he dead?"

He marched towards her and the young girl shook her head fearfully as he came closer and closer. "H-he was making a phone call, I-I tried to-"She yelped as he grabbed her by the hair, anger flaring in his face as he began to drag her over to the group, the four other men keeping their guns on Magnus. "-to stop him, but he didn't listen so I shot his phone!"

Grabbing her pistol from her hand and passing it to the college student, who put it in his pocket. Tears ready to fall from her face, Peter let go of her hair. Before she had time to react, the furious man took the butt of his gun and hit her harshly between the shoulders, making her collapse onto the floor in a startled heap. Instinctively, Magnus went to take a step forward but soon he was peering down the barrel of a gun. Pushing his gun behind his back by its strap, the sick man named Peter grabbed her frail neck and threw her face against the hard floor in fury, so harshly that it made Magnus flinch from just watching.

"Bullets are meant for people, not phones. Do you need me to demonstrate how that works?" He snarled into her ear, pointing in Martinsson's direction as she stayed on the floor, breathing heavily.

Lying on her cheek, Axelia looked at Magnus with watery eyes and shook her head. "No, sir."

If the detective's heart wasn't breaking before, it was shattered now.

"Good. Now get up." Axelia stood up as he turned around, but just when Magnus thought it was over, Peter turned around and slapped the broken girl across the cheek. "Don't make that mistake again, fånge."

When he turned back around to face Martinsson, the detective had to restrain himself from beating the man to a pulp. Even as the man stood inches away from the blonde's stern face. "You must be Magnus Martinsson. Do you enjoy my work?" He asked, gesturing to the scene behind him. "Have to keep her in line somehow. Did she show you her scars?" He laughed.

Trying to control himself, he just gritted his teeth and looked into the criminal's emotionless grey eyes, not saying a word.

Peter smiled. "I'll take that as a no. I take it you worked her case then, Detective Inspector Martinsson?" Martinsson frowned. "Have fun chasing a ghost and a dead girl?"

Blinking, Magnus finally opened his mouth with careful words. "I did work Axelia's case and she should know that we never stopped looking. And it is _Detective_ Martinsson." He growled.

The man raised an eyebrow in mock surprise and took steps back from the fuming hostage. "Oh," he said, bending down to Martinsson's discarded bag from the bakery. He had forgotten it the moment he heard gunfire, dropping it to the floor without a second thought to get away.

"You didn't know?" He chuckled and flipped open the box.

"Well, then I guess congratulations are in order for the Ystad's new Detective _Inspector _Magnus Martinsson." The blonde's face fell; he didn't know what to think.

Peter picked up the open box and carried it over with a smile plastered to his face, satisfied with being once step ahead in everything.

In the box was a cake, covered in light blue icing and outlined with royal blue, Magnus saw the writing on it, written in golden letters:

_Congratulations Detective Inspector Martinsson, _

_You've earned your new ranking!_

_Now answer the phone._

_-Your friends at CID_

Magnus looked up at Peter in shock, pale blue eyes wide and mouth ajar as the criminal smirked.

"Allow me to express my gratitude, sir."

He snorted and flipped the box forward, allowing the cake to fall and crumble at the detective inspector's feet.

The next thing he heard was Peter shouting 'fireworks' and guns went off, and four people crumbled to the ground.

The blonde looked up and spat in the bastard's face, his expression livid. "You sick, disgusting, son of a-"

And fell to the floor, Peter's fist still lagging in the air as Magnus felt blood begin to flow from his mouth and nose, praying that help was coming.

**~Chapter Two~**

_Author's Note:__ About the cliff-hanger from Chapter One…LOKI'D! Read and Review! Next one should be up in about two days. Also, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Yeah, Peter was, at first, inspired by a few Unsubs from Criminal Minds, but then I saw Reservoir Dogs yesterday and was frightened by the character Mr. Blonde, and thought that Peter would likely be very similar to him in the 'Sadistic Bastards' category. _


	4. Chapter 3

**~Chapter Three~**

Blood running down from his nose and mouth, Magnus coughed as he sat on his knees, staring into a gun. Heaving shallow breaths into his body, he shook his head at the gunman.

"I told him I was at the bank," the Detective Inspector sputtered. "I didn't get the chance to tell him which bank it was. For all he knows, I'm dead."

"What else did you say to your partner?" Peter growled.

"Nothing! I've told you! She shot my damn phone!" Peter just looked at him. "You know, you really must have quite the stick shoved up your-"the gun came down hard against Magnus' jaw, and the blonde just spat blood on the floor and replaced his gaze. His lip split and mouth bleeding.

"Ass," he finished.

Keeping his gun pointed at Martinsson's head, Peter turned to Axelia, who stood silently by the remaining hostages. "You let him talk to his partner before shooting his phone?" He let out a dark chuckled, and Magnus felt the gun leave his forehead, directing itself to her.

"Two years, and you still try and resist. But you've killed people, Axelia. And for that, you'll still burn in hell." And he went into a shooter's stance and pressed his finger against the trigger; Axelia shut her eyes and waited for freedom.

"No!" Magnus yelled and drove his foot against the side of the gunman's knee just as the shot rang out, sending the shot over Axelia's head and Peter to the floor in pain and rage.

Now leaning back on his elbows, Magnus began to back-peddle away from Peter, who was groaning in pain and trying to stand and direct his gun at the Detective Inspector. The other four gunmen had their guns drawn at the frenzy and advanced towards them, Axelia standing in shock as Magnus back himself against the till, breathing heavy. Taking his eyes off the five armed men, he nodded at Axelia, knowing what he did was the right thing, and that whatever happened next, she shouldn't feel guilty in any way. The girl smiled weakly and nodded back.

"You shoot me; you lose your way out!" He yelled as he turned his attention back to what could very well be the end of his life, his heart beating fast and pumping adrenalin throughout his body. Magnus knew that the only way that he was getting out of this was by giving them more of what they wanted; leverage. "If the cops do show up, they'll be expecting a dead cop, and if you shoot me, you'll get a hail of bullets for it! But if you keep me alive and surprise them, you have a better chance of getting out of here in one piece." The words came out like wildfire, a last attempt to save his life, before gunfire erupted.

Or so he thought.

The guns lowered slightly, and Magnus continued, catching Axelia's gaze for barely a second before looking at the cold grey eyes of Peter, who now had more weight on one foot, wincing slightly.

"Right now, you've got one of Ystad's most valuable cops in your hands, and a cold case victim. They'll likely meet your demands if it means we get out alive. Especially if the ones that come down are from my station, and I can guarantee that my colleague will be out for blood if he sees my corpse and those of the hostages you've slaughtered. You wouldn't be carried out in bags," he spoke in a daring low tone. "You'd be scrubbed off the floor and pass down lines in buckets."

Keeping his blue eyes on the surrounding men taking in his every word, Martinsson supressed a smile as he caught movement in the middle of the room. Axelia got his message, and the blonde continued to buy them more time to get help.

"But," Magnus spoke louder, shifting himself up to sit comfortably against the till. "If you keep Axelia and I alive, he'll be a bit more…compliant." He smiled as the guns were pointed on the floor now.

Peter smirked. "And why should we keep her alive?" The other men chuckled in agreement.

The corner of Martinsson's lip rose. "Leverage."

"We have you. That's all we need. We'll just shoot the little b-"

"No," Martinsson spat. "Axelia has a family, and you bastards murdered her friend to get her. She's been missing for two years, and I not just going to let you get rid of her. My colleagues and I have been searching for her and we never stopped." Magnus gripped the desk and stood up, wiping the still running blood off his face with sleeve and leaned in close to Peter with a deadly stare. "And I swear to God, if you lay a finger on her, you will regret ever taking her."

Gazes locked, the others held their ground away from the two, waiting for one to make a move. Magnus gritted his teeth, sweat scurried down the side of his head, and his face held the same seriousness as his heart did; his hands in fists as he waited for a response.

Peter cracked a smile.

"I guess we have a deal then," his smile grew as he cradled his gun to push the blonde back against the tills and turned around. "Fånge, you should be…"

His words faded as he saw the young girl with the jet black hair staring at him with a gaze he hadn't seen in the two years they held her in their basement as a prisoner. Green eyes seemed to melt into his mind with her soft, tired gaze and shook her head with the strange emotion. It was pity.

"Like he said," she said in a careful tone, looking at Magnus with a weak smile. "You have us. That's all you need. No one else."

Tension was like slow moving tar in the room, time seemed to slow down as Peter stared at Axelia and everyone waited to see what would happen next. Martinsson felt his heart slow down but beat harder than it ever had before as the seconds ticked by in endless hours. No one moved a muscle or said a word, they just watched.

Peter reached into his back pocket and the detective inspector felt his heart jump at the movement. What was he reaching for? Was it a knife? Pistol? Taser? Questions and worry flowed through his body on an electric current, and then he saw them.

Handcuffs.

Magnus didn't know whether he should be thankful or fearful that the Axelia's captor kept handcuffs in his back pocket. But he knew that he tasted bile in the back of his throat when the young girl held out her wrists and came forward obediently without a word being said. Pulling the black sleeves up, it was easy to tell that this practice happened a lot. There were scars on the lily-white arms; deep, dark, painful scars in which the metal cuffs fitted perfectly in.

"Let's go," Peter whispered, putting his hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward towards Magnus and they shared a look of pain together; Axelia with her scars and Magnus with his bloodied face.

Standing side by side together, Martinsson placed a hand on her small shoulder and she instinctively flinched before realizing it was a friendly touch.

"It's alright," he whispered to her, guns digging into their backs and pushing them to the corner where they had taken cover during the start of the takeover. "It's alright, Axelia, I promised you," he told her as Peter pushed them into the supply closet and slammed the door, the lock clicking behind them.

The tall man turned to face the trembling girl and lifted her face to meet his eyes. "I promised you I'd get you out of here," Axelia nodded, pressing her cheek into his soft, caring hand and step into his arms; burying her face into his chest to feel the safety she so desperately needed.

"I'll get you out," Magnus whispered, running his fingers through her black hair. "I promise, I'll get you out and you'll be safe, Axelia. No one's going to hurt you, I won't let them."

**~Chapter Three~**


	5. Chapter 4

**~Chapter Four~**

"Send units to every damn bank in Ystad!" Kurt slammed the file for Axelia Stulnasson's case onto his desk; throwing his hands to his head in frustration, growling through gritted teeth.

"Kurt you know we can't do that," Ann-Britt informed from across the desk with her arms folded across her chest. "If we send people to every bank, the unit that hits the bank that Magnus is at will be at risk and there won't be enough officers to handle the situation."

In the corner, Lisa shook her head again in disbelief of the situation. "This must be a case of Stockholm."

"Does it matter? One of our best officers is being held at bloody gunpoint and we're talking about the person who is holding him hostage? We should be out there looking for Magnus instead of just sitting here!" Wallander exclaimed.

"Kurt, that's enough!" Höglund snapped, making the Detective Inspector clasp his mouth shut and sit on the desk, glaring at the floor. There was a reason why she was a good mother. "Now, there is hardly any evidence to show that Axelia Stulnasson was a girl with violent tendencies before she was abducted. Lisa's right, Kurt. By understanding that the person that has Magnus right now is still a victim herself, we need to decide if negotiations are still possible for the situation."

"Ann-Britt is right, if this is a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome, Axelia Stulnasson may be willing to kill Magnus and herself in order to keep the identity of her own captors safe," Nyberg added. "But if she shot Magnus' phone instead of him, there's likely still reason and fight in her. The only question is which bank they are at?"

Tapping his fingers against the desk just like Magnus would, Kurt nodding in understanding. "And Martinsson is a good Detective; he'll know exactly what to do. That why he's a Detective."

"Detective Inspector, Kurt." Lisa corrected him solemnly.

"Right," he sighed and stood up, "Which bank could he have possibly gone to?"

"Well, it's Magnus, he can't have gone far."

"Nyberg!"

The pathologist put his hands up in frustration. "No, really! I'm just saying that Magnus knew he had to be back, so he would have gone to the closest bank to the station."

Kurt ran a hand through his hair and shook his head as he began to pace. "Why don't we look at the library? Or the bakery? Check and see if he made it there."

The four were so consumed in their work that they did something that was often overlooked if it wasn't for Martinsson. The phones were ringing and they were doing what they usually would and ignored it out of habit. Luckily, Ann-Britt and Magnus weren't so different from each other and didn't do things the 'usual' way.

Forcing herself between the two now-raging grown men, Lisa tried calming the feud down but her words fell on deaf ears. "Boys, settle down!"

"I wasn't insulting him; I was describing him, Kurt!" Nyberg barked as Kurt tried to force his way past Lisa to grab the frustrated man.

Kurt rolled his eyes and tried to advance towards him but was stopped by Lisa's surprisingly strong arm. "Yes, because talking about how sitting at his desk all day on the computer relating to his lack of exercise is definitely not insulting him."

"Well, he's not the only one suffering from lack of exercise." Nyberg snapped back, taking a step forward.

"Hey!" Ann-Britt called from the phone, trying to get everyone's attention.

Shooting a dark glare, Wallander gritted his teeth. "Well you're one to talk!"

Now trapped in the middle, Lisa tried to force her elbows up to give herself some air, but her actions went un-noticed and of no use.

Putting the phone against her shoulder and picking up her stack of pink post-it notes, Höglund showered the two feuding men and the trapped chief in them, her cheeks beginning to redden in frustration.

"Will you two just shut up?" Her voice groaned and Lisa took her chance and pushed her way through to the younger Detective while the other two lowered their fists. "We have a call, and luckily I answered the damn phone while you guys acting like children."

Shaking her head in disapproval, Ann-Britt pressed the speaker on the phone as Nyberg and Wallander took the little squares of paper off themselves.

"_Well, thank God for Ann-Britt for picking the phone," _the familiar, condescending tone whispered through the speaker, lifting everyone's smiles and Kurt came forward and stood by the desk. "_Can you guys even hear the phone ringing?"_

"Glad to hear your voice again, Magnus."

A sigh was heard. _"Gosh, don't even get me started on yours, Kurt,"_ he chuckled into the phone.

.

With Axelia lying down on the floor in front of the door to look out from beneath it, Magnus ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the corner with the cell phone. "I need to be quick, Kurt, they'll be back soon."

"_What do you have, Martinsson?" _Kurt asked in his normal affirmative tone.

"Five men armed with automatics and a pistol, ranging from the ages of twenty-two and forty. The leader is named Peter, and he is the one that's been holding Axelia Stulnasson for the last two years."

"_And where is Axelia now?"_

"Lying on the floor," he responded as he watched her give a little wave in his direction from her spot and the light bounce off the cuffs, keeping her attention on the sounds and shadows outside of the closet.

There was a pause on the other end. _"Okay?" _An uncertain tone replied and Magnus couldn't resist the urge to chuckle into the phone. _"Anyways," _Kurt continued. "_Magnus, which bank are you at, are the any other hostages, and are you or Axelia hurt?"_

"We're at Sparbanken Syd. There were thirteen other people taken hostage, eight people have been killed, there are five gunmen-"

"Six" Axelia cut him off, making Magnus frown and lower the phone.

"What?" Magnus looked at her as she flipped her head to look at him with a small smile.

"Only six people were murdered. Two of the people who got shot were still alive and got out with the others," she informed him and resumed her position, "It was that couple."

Smiling, Martinsson replace the phone at his ear. "Only six people have died, the others were able to get out. You'd have gotten phone calls from them by now."

"_Alright, we'll be over there soon. And you still haven't answered my last question: Are you and Axelia alright, Magnus?" _Martinsson could hear the father part of Kurt taking over in the man's voice and it warmed his heart to know that he cared about him like that.

Cleaning his still-trickling nose, the blonde gave a subconscious nod into the phone. "We're managing, but we're okay. Be sure to have a medic though, Kurt."

"_Of course. We'll see you soon, Martinsson."_

"Thanks, Kurt."

"_Be safe."_

"I'll try, just please get over here, Kurt. As fast as you can," Magnus glanced at Axelia and bit his lip. "Goodbye," he whispered and shut the phone, letting out a breath to try an calm the electricity in his nerves.

Pushing herself off the floor, Axelia marched over to the blonde as he sat against a filing cabinet and slid down to join him, holding her arms against her stomach and stared at the floor. Looking over, Martinsson tentatively reached over and touched her scarred wrists, making her flinch again on instinct but relax as he took her arm into his careful hands. He took extra care to not touch the hand cuffs surrounding them but could feel the raised lines around them with his fingers, crossing over each other like a chaotic game of tic-tac-toe. Beneath them were bruises of all colors, and some sickening fresh cuts and burns. Some even had what looked to be ash shoved into them, something that some tribal groups did.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, still cradling her wrists.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the floor and bit her cheek. "Not anymore," she finally responded and looked at his face, eyes following the path of the drying blood. "What about you? Does it still hurt?" A finger pointed to his nose in a hesitant gesture.

Despite the stinging pain, Magnus shook his head and force a weak smile. "No, not anymore…Axelia, thank you for the phone and getting those people out," he drew his hands away from hers; the feeling of her scars just didn't fit with her innocent visage. "But why didn't you leave with them? You wouldn't be stuck in here if you had left with the others, Axelia. You should've gone."

Axelia shook her head and looked across the room, lips quivering with emotion. "If I did, they would've killed you."

"A price I'm willing to pay if it means people stay alive," he growled a bit harsher than he intended.

Green eyes stared deeply into the blue ones and they were dead-serious with intent. "You don't deserve to die alone, Magnus Martinsson, you're too selfless and kind to deserve that misfortune."

The DI drew his eyes to the vents on the ceiling and nodded to them, trying to convince her otherwise. "You can still get out of here, Axelia. Those vents will lead outside and I know I can lift you to get into them. Please."

"No," Axelia replied sharply. "I'm not leaving. I go, you die. You're not making me leave this room so that you can die a hero. Now quit trying to," Magnus gave a weary glance to her, surprised by her affirming tone.

"Sorry," she added after a moment of silence, making Magnus chuckle. "That was mean."

"It wasn't, you deserve every right to say your opinion and I respect that. But please, Axelia, if something happens, don't feel you need to take responsibility for it. If something happens to me, it happened because I choose to let it happened."

Silence fell on the room, and they could hear the others pacing outside of the door; dial tones, boots, and mumbling.

"Did you…" Magnus started hesitantly, catching Axelia's attention. "Ever find out why they…took you?" he asked, feeling eggshells cracking underneath him.

Her lip twitched and she shifted uncomfortably on the cold floor, staring at her purple indented and raised skin. "Stefan and I just wanted to go out for lunch that day," she whispered, choking on some words and fought some tears. "We went to the café a few blocks from our school for lunch, but just as we were leaving, I realized that I had forgotten my coat and told Stefan to keep walking and that I'd catch up. Once I got out, I spotted him, so I started running to catch up. That's when I ran into Peter getting out of the van with the duffle bags," a tear streamed down her face and she took a quick glance at Magnus, who was listening to the young girl's story with a pitying look. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. "When I hit him, my boot got caught on the bag and when I fell, it ripped and some money fell out. He was leaning against the van, so I got up and ran to Stefan, and I didn't think Peter saw me; I just wanted to get away from him. I told Stefan what happened, we went back to school and we tried to call the police and they wrote an anonymous report and said to call again from home. Stefan said he'd walk me there just to be safe. Turned out Peter had seen me and my uniform and was waiting for me. We were just a block away when they grabbed me…and they made sure that I heard the shots."

Pieces fell in place and everything made sense, and it was chilling. Martinsson knew he should speak, but his tongue fell flat and his mouth just hung open. He was speechless because he had worked the phones that day and he had taken her and Stefan's anonymous call. When they didn't call back, he just assumed it was two teenagers playing a prank and backed down when they realized that it was taken seriously. Magnus never felt more guilt in his life.

Without thinking now, Magnus just let words slide off his tongue, feeling it was only fair. "We sent letters to your family. Telling them that we were still looking for you and that we'd never stop," a hand ran through his now slightly damp curls and settled on the side of his face. "We just sent one today. That's why I'm here."

"In sending a letter to my family, you found me," she chuckled, tucking her black hair behind her ear which Magnus began to look at solemnly.

Noticing his lingering gaze, she pulled a lock into her view, running her fingers through it. "They hate blondes and wanted to lessen the chance that people might recognize me," she added, "It worked."

"It'll come back," he assured her, "It'll just take some time."

Letting her head fall back against the cabinet, Axelia bit the inside of her bottom black lip, and rested her eyes on the ceiling. "How long have you been working my case, Magnus?" She asked dryly.

"Since the beginning," he answered.

Axelia let her head drift slightly. "And how long did it take for you to start to believe I was dead?"

The answer was as painful to him as it was to her. "Eight months."

"Because you couldn't find me."

"Because we couldn't find anything," he added with a shake of the head. "But I kept looking."

Small specks of color began to form on her cheeks, and Axelia looked at him with a blank stare. "Why?" She asked, but Magnus could see a corner of her lip raise in small happiness.

"Hope, bringing closure to your family, making the world safer," he answered, just saying what came to mind first, when he found a deeper reason that constantly drove him to do his job. "And because I'm a father."

She looked up in surprise. "There was just something in my mind telling me to keep looking, to keep trying, because if it were my daughter, I'd stop at nothing until I knew she was safe in my arms again," the two looked at each other for a moment and shared a battered smile. "I knew you were alive, but just where you could be was absolutely terrifying."

Nodding, Axelia looked with a new light in her eyes, as if life was re-igniting in her small, frail form. "I kept screaming for help, and they would beat me until my voice was hoarse or I blacked out. But I always kept screaming, thinking someone might hear me and that it would be over. They would blast music to drown out my voice…and because they liked a beat to go to," the last words barely caught Magnus' ear because it was so quiet, like a child speaking up about a nightmare and the sound just catching the air. She didn't even have to say what happened to make his stomach twist.

"It's just good to know that it was worth it," she breathed just as her voice hitched, eyelashes soaking up the wetness in her eyes but her make-up ran anyways. "Do you think they'll recognize me?"

Magnus smiled and brushed the dark wetness from under her eyes off with his finger. "Of course they will; you're their daughter."

Brushing her eyes with the back of her sleeve, she sniffed and gave a half-hearted chuckled that sounded more like a sigh. "You're quite the optimist, Magnus Martinsson."

"Teh…tell that to my co-worker," he chuckled, but felt his throat close when he heard something coming from outside of the closet.

Sirens.

Standing up immediately, Martinsson reached down and grabbed Axelia's arm. "Get up and get ready," he whispered as he carefully pulled her off the floor, taking care to not touch the handcuffs.

Re-adjusting his coat, Magnus turned to face the door just as the lock clicked and light flooded the room, making both of the hostages flinch. Someone stepped into the room, and they saw that it was the college student beckoning them forward with a gun in hand.

"Out. Now," the two put their hands up behind their heads and walked out, receiving a shove as they passed the young armed man and made their way into the lobby.

In the middle of the room, Peter stood in the middle of the lobby with a phone in hand. "Come on, get over here so that our new audience can see," he said a bit too joyfully.

Obeying the maniacal man, the Detective Inspector fired a glare at him and rubbed some of the dry blood off his face with his knuckle, anger flaring through him. The other four stood around the room, each carrying duffle bags which were presumably filled with money. In the corner, the bodies were piled on top of one and other as if they were tossed there. Through the window, he could see Kurt and Ann-Britt with their guns drawn and directed nod towards them that was supposed to re-assure them in some way that Magnus could think of at the moment. Holding Axelia roughly by her hair as she crumbled to her knees, Peter simply smiled at the blonde's rage and shove him to them floor to match her stance.

"Let the games begin, Mr. Martinsson," a sly tone announced as the landline began to ring in the degrading man's grasp.

Offering it to the kneeling detective, who took it roughly out of his hand instead of knocking the man's teeth out, wincing as he felt the gun pinch his side in the uncomfortable position. Giving a side-glance and small smile to Axelia who looked at the side of his coat where she noticed a small bulge and directed her eyes back to the floor before the others noticed, Magnus answered the phone.

"Hello?" The DI asked carefully, not sure how to begin the conversation with his superior.

The responding voice he soon heard was not the one he was expecting. "Hi, I was wondering when you close. I was hoping to open up a new account today," a female voice replied.

"Umm…Sorry, miss, today isn't exactly the…best day to come in. We're a bit busy with something right now, so could you please call back another time?"

"But-I need to-"babble started on the phone and Martinsson went very apologetic and began fanning the phone as if the calm the situation down. Peter and Axelia frowned at his actions in uncertainty and thoughts that the man had suddenly gone mad.

"No, ma'am, I don't work here and I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but trust when I say that you do not want to come to this bank today."

"But I always go to-"

Shaking his head in a mix of panic and apology, Magnus just gave up. "The police are here, and I have to go. Sorry, but you'll have to try another bank. Bye," he pushed the END button in annoyance and handed it back to Peter. "Why don't we just get them to give us a radio, so that there aren't any interruptions and we can lessen the bill for the bank?"

"Fine," Peter rolled his eyes and grabbed Magnus by his collar, letting Axelia sink to the floor, and headed to the door with the struggling blonde in front of him and opened the door, making Kurt and everyone else raise their guns.

Calming himself internally, Martinsson tried to keep his internal self from showing to his co-workers. "Radio?" He asked casually and a young cadet slid his over to Magnus' feet.

Warm breathe crawled into his ear. "Pick it up. Or she dies," he saw Peter nod in Ann-Britt's direction, and Magnus nodded, leaning to the side and gently grabbed the radio. Once he had it in his hands, he felt a sharp jerk on his collar and winced as he was pulled back into the lobby.

"Channel six," Peter called, and Kurt simply nodded and picked up his radio.

Resuming his position on his knees, he felt the hand leave his coat and brought the radio to his face.

"Kurt," he licked his lips, trying to find the right words to start the negotiation. "Don't shoot the bastard yet."

A rough blow came down on the left side of the blonde's face, making him spit blood on the ground and roll his eyes up to Peter's. "I just saved your life, you're welcome," his familiar sarcastic tone rolled off his tongue and Kurt couldn't help but scoffed into the radio as the younger continued. "These guys want to make a deal with you, Kurt."

"_Isn't that how it always is?" _

**~Chapter Four~**

_Author's Note: __This would've been up sooner but my laptop had problems and wouldn't charge. It died, and I could type. Apologies all around. Stupid technology. Magnus, fix it-oh right, fictional character…stupid reality…_


	6. Chapter 5

**~Chapter Five~**

With the entrance of the bank covered with uniforms and cars, a fair sized crowd began to form and the team sent Nyberg to break it apart and send the onlookers elsewhere from the situation. From the door, Martinsson saw that Ann-Britt and Wallander's guns had only lowered slightly since their arrival, keeping them directed at Peter and the college student, Erik. A cadet not aiming a weapon was on a laptop and searching for the identities of the gunmen in order to feed the others a constant flow of new leverage in the negotiation. Inside, Magnus' knees were aching as his head was throbbing, while his throat began to itch for some water since the negotiation was going nowhere.

Peter shifted his gun into the crook of Magnus' neck, his patience wearing thin. "Tell him that if he doesn't agree to at least one of our demands in the next ten seconds, your head gets blown off," he growled into the DI's ear, sending a spider-leg sensation down his back.

"Kurt," Magnus swallowed, "Please, we need…we need something…now," a staggered breath forced itself into the radio.

"Tic toc, Detective Inspector Martinsson," a loud yelp blitzed beside him, and Axelia was keeled over on her side, her face hidden between her ripped, stocking-torn knees.

"Kurt, we need to agree to something. Please."

Never did Wallander think he would see the day in which a pleading tone came from the young colleague. He thought quickly. "We can dismiss some of the officers, but Ann-Britt and I are staying. We can remove ten guns, but that is it."

Magnus raised his head cautiously in Peter's direction. Munching on his cheek, Peter gave a slow and careful nod before replying. "What's the catch?"

"Get the bloody gun off of my DI or I'll-" Kurt stopped himself, "-Or we won't be able to carry on from there."

The air fell tense, and still, Axelia and Magnus held their breath in fear of disturbance.

A loud clang erupted, making the two jump out of their skins. Magnus saw the automatic sitting between them before being kicked away. Four shadows turned in confusion of their leader's actions.

"Put the guns down, and let's talk," he said, looking at Wallander and Ann-Britt still holding their guns, "We'll see if we can work something out, Detective Inspector!" He called out and motioned to the four to put their guns down at their sides and took their place beside him. "We're coming out."

Magnus raised the radio to his head cautiously. "Kurt," he whispered in a low voice.

"_We got it, Magnus. Just watch yourselves."_

"Magnus," a small voice breathed across the room, and Martinsson pressed a finger to his lips, but Axelia shook her head in protest. "Magnus, what do you think-"

"AXELIA! GET DOWN!" Magnus threw himself in front of the kneeling girl and she only had time to register a loud crack on the floor before the sound of gunfire was recognized all around her. Amid the windows breaking and bullets flying by, she hardly recognized the sound of her own screams.

Ducking instinctively, Axelia put her arms around Magnus and went to move, but felt herself going nowhere and fell back against the floor. Looking down, she realized that the man in front of her was limp and face-down on the floor. Axelia's eyes widened in horror.

"Magnus?" She lifted his bleeding head and felt it lop back into her lap with the rest of his body, his blue eyes barely showing beneath his limp lids. "No!" Axelia looked down at him, catching the glint of glass on his leg and saw a shard sticking out of it.

Instinctively, the panicked girl went to reach for it but stopped herself as her mind began to clear. Shaking the thought of the shard away, she looked at his stilled face and saw the new cut on it and continued down until she felt her body go ice cold while she tried to focus her eyes on what couldn't be the smoking bullet hole in his jacket. Martinsson's eyelids fluttered weakly and he grimaced in pain.

"Axelia…" His voice was barely a whisper and she felt him take her hand into his. "You need…to run," the weak voice heaved a breath as he guided her fingers to the warmth inside his jacket and her lips began to quiver for fear that she would feel wetness until she felt the cold aluminium being molded to her grasp and his fingers feebly undoing the holster encasing it.

"Go."

"Fånge," glass crunched behind the girl before she had time to react and a pair of cruel, iron arms latched onto her shoulders and lifted her off the ground, but she tightened her grasp around the weapon. "We're going."

A hand went over her mouth and Peter had her wrist in his other hand. Martinsson looked up weakly but his head fell back against the floor as he watched the girl being dragged away to the back and the corner of his mouth rose as he heard shots going off.

"Get off of me!" the girl cried, setting off another round and hit Peter's foot. "Help! I'm over here! I'm over here!"

"You little brat!"

Magnus winced in pain and flipped onto his side, seeing the arm around the small neck and squeezing, the sound of his pistol clattering onto the ground brought him even more pain and he collapsed onto floor as the sound of screeching tires disappeared.

"We need a medic!" Ann-Britt called, Wallander and several cadets went to the back, and Magnus couldn't help but smile at the sound of him cursing.

"Magnus, Magnus stay with me," Ann called again and lifted his jacket where the bullet entered when he felt her stop and look back at him.

"What?"

Martinsson heaved a breath and sat up, reaching inside his jacket and took out the heavy hard-cover book and handed it to Ann-Britt, who turned it over and saw the bullet lodged inside of it. "Remind me to complement Kurt on his heavy reading again."

"You lucky bastard," she chuckled and gave him a quick hug before helping him up and guided him to the medic outside. "Rough lunch?"

He shook his head as he limped on and saw the stretcher waiting on the stairs and just sat down. "You have no idea. Can you make it as quick as you can?" he asked the medic as she looked at the glass sticking out of his leg and frowned. "We have a house to raid, the loudest one on the block, and I'm not missing the chance to bring Peter in because I just got a little cut up."

Wallander ran up and did a once-over on the younger man as the medic tried her best to get him to lie down on the stretcher, Martinsson protesting and caught Kurt's glance and sat up taller. "Kurt, send units to the house that got the noise complaint this morning and tell her that I'm fine and fit for duty."

"What makes you think that?"

"You promoted me to DI, you figure it out."

Kurt looked at the frustrated medic and nodded to her. "Take it out, but don't give him anything, you'll just make him madder and he's being rude enough already."


	7. Chapter 6

The oak cracked behind her as she felt herself being thrown across the walls and against it, her nose streaming down her face in a crimson river. She reached behind her, her nails scratching against the wood as they searched blindly for the brass knob, her eyes staying on the man brandishing the kitchen knife, marching towards her with a cold, cruel, merciless stare. Closing the distance between them, Peter lurched forward just as Axelia's hand found the knob and she dove to the side, feeling the stinging pain of the blade brushing against her arm as she opened the door. The room seemed to shake all around her as she shut her eyes and listened to the man tumble down the stairs, her body moulded to the wall out of fear and anticipation.

Silence crept up the walls and into her ear, the only sound penetrating it was the blood tentatively tapping against the floor.

Her eyes traced the grain of the floor and went down the stairs, turning her body in that direction but her feet remained concrete and parallel against the wall. All that the youthful eyes could make out were the slight shadows in the light from the darkened windows. Axelia looked at the door that hung ajar and felt the electric feeling of hope beneath her cheeks and leaned towards it, viewing it as an almost too-perfect flame of oppurtunity would go out at any moment if she were to turn away. Peeling her feet from the floor, she took a hesitant step on the creaking floor, waiting for the cruel monster to arrive from the basement below, but heard nothing. Now was her chance, she wasn't going to wait a second longer and her feet grew a mind of their own and took off towards it. only they had also grown eyes too.

Air leapt out of her as her heel slid back on the crimson puddle, time slowed down and she could hear the rubber screaming against the driveway. Reaching for the disappearing light as the darkness consumed her, she felt her head clap against the basement floor and the rough, callused, all-too familiar hand begin its ravenous feasting of her paper-like skin.

No time was wasted in the mere seconds it took Kurt Wallander to run through the door once the sound of her screams reached his pitying ears, but the predator had already finished his work and then some.

.

"Martinsson, please," Ann-Britt called, reaching for the DI as he tried to swing his legs over the stretcher and on the pavement. "Just let her look at your nose, it looks broken."

The latter rolled his eyes in reply and tried to move again until Ann-Britt placed a firm hand on his shoulder and forced him back down. He gave her a child-like frustration groan. "Look, I'm fine, and it is not broken, my nose isn't broken. See? Ow! Shit!" He cupped his nose as the two women surrounding him gave a knowing look and he laid back down on the stretcher in surrender. "Okay fine, fine. It might be fractured." Magnus felt a kind hand snap at the side of his head in mock-punishment. "Just set it and I'll be fine. Ann-Britt, we're running out of time."

"Kurt went to the house, Magnus. Now just let the medic take care of you and I'll take you over. Okay?"

"Fine."

"You've been saying that word a lot, just shut up, Magnus, and we'll be on our way," Martinsson went to protest but Ann-Britt put a finger out to stop him. "Not another word, Detective Inspector," and walked off to the three cadets wounded from the shooting and Erik, giving a solemn nod to Nyberg as he transported the third body bag from the steps.

Once she was well out of earshot, Martinsson mumbled into his chest as the medic repositioned herself in front of him. "Make sure she gets her shoulder checked out...I saw her wince when she shoved me."

The medic raised her eyebrows as she brought her gloved hands to his face with alcohol-soaked gauze. "I like her," she grinned.

The patient shot her a look and she smirked as she dabbed the blood off his nose and he winced in response. "So, what did you do to deserve that attitude from her, Mr. Martinsson? Not pay for dinner?"

He glared at her. "She's married."

"So?"

"I am too."

"Oh."

"Do mind not trying to learn about my personal life?"

Biting her lip, the medic set the gauze down and tore a piece of tape and readied it on the stretcher . "You might want to prepare yourself," she positioned her hands on the sides of his nose. "This is might hurt a bit."

"What do you-"

.

"Well," Ann-Britt called as Martinsson slid into the passenger seat of the car, tape placed across his nose and kept his eyes down. "How was it?"

"Not so bad," he shrugged, locking his seat belt and fastening his pistol. "Oh good, you got your arm looked at."

"I heard you cry out."

"Only a bit."

"Nyberg thought there was a little girl on the scene."

"Ann-Britt, could you please just drive?"

The sly women smiled and put the keys in the ignition and made the car purr with a flick of the wrist. "Yes, my lord."

Setting the car in motion, Ann-Britt caught the anxious fluttering of Magnus' fingers on the door panel.

"It'll be fine, Magnus. Just breath now, she's alright. Kurt made it to the house, and everything is under control."

Lights flashed in the mirror, and Ann-Britt veered to the side of the road as the ambulances passed her in great haste. The two looked at each other in uncertainty before Magnus spoke the one word that set them off towards them.

"Drive."

.

The two arrived in a matter of minutes and what waited for them was enough to make Magnus run out of the car and to Kurt as he carried the hardly recognizable girl to the medics rushing towards him. He could hardly recognize her in the scuffle, the blood, her blood, covered Kurt's hands as he worked to stop the bleeding in her mangled neck and resuscitate her. Trailing beside the gurney, parallel to an eerie, distinct blood trail, Martinsson tried to crawl through the sea of people but could only watch as Kurt was dragged away from the gurney as Axelia was loaded into the ambulance, medics surrounding her in no time and took off down the street. Martinsson stared blankly down the street, barely catching the medic coming out of the house with justice beside him.

Kurt met his side just as he felt himself collapse onto his knees and Magnus lurched forward, emptying himself on the lawn in a fit of anger, tears, and anxiety.

.

Rusted fingers padded themselves impatiently against the counter as the nurse inspected his and Magnus' credentials. Smiling to herself, she returned them and escorted them to the room where Axelia was.

"Looks can be very deceiving. Broken nose, knife to the collar bone and abdomen, scratches along her jawbone, but nothing mortal and fatal. No arteries were hit. Most of the blood was his," the door clicked behind her and she bit her lip, "She's a fighter, I'll give her that, but it'll take some time for her to recover. She's under right now, but you can still go in. Did you want me to call her family?"

"Yes, that'd be great, thank you. May I please see her report? Thank you," Magnus cringed slightly as he took it from the hesitant nurse and opened it. Offering a weak smile, she opened the door fully and entered, checking the IV and vitals as the two men walked in slowly, both pairs of eyes still on the report.

"Broken nose, dislocated jaw and right shoulder, fractured wrist and ribs, knife wounds to the neck, abdomen, and shoulder, as well as scratches along the face, neck, arms, and chest." Magnus took a shuttering breath before continuing, "No major arteries were contacted. Scarring on the wrists, waist, thighs, and-" the young man stopped himself and choked on newly-formed lump in his throat,"and extremely severe vaginal and uterine scarring. Severity of scarring has resulted in infertility."

"Magnus," Kurt spoke in a more-or-less stable tone,"did you want to step back outside and come back for a bit?"

The blonde simply shook his head, still staring at the folder while Kurt got some gauze from the table and held it out to the young man.

"Stress takes its toll on people, Martinsson, and sometimes they don't even realize it. Cover your nose before you get blood on the file. Come on. I'll take you out for a coffee."

"But-"

"She's in safe hands now, you see that for yourself, Martinsson. Her parents will be here soon to take over and we can be back here once you really feel up to it. I'm sure Axelia's family would really like to meet the man who returned their daughter back to them."

"Alright," Magnus took one last glance at the bandaged young girl on the gurney, "Alright, let's go."


End file.
